Harry Styles Imagines

44. He Was Verbally Abused By His Ex-Girlfriend

''I'm home!" I shouted once I stepped into the living room.

I placed my shoes carefully in the closet right as I heard Harry come down the stairs.

"Hi baby" Harry smiled, giving me a quick kiss before taking off my jacket for me.

"Wow, such a gentleman" I teased, sticking my tongue out at him before kissing him again.

He smiled, keeping our foreheads touching as he slowly shook his head, rubbing our noses together.

"How was work?"

"Tiring. My boss can be such a dick sometimes." I complained, fixing my hair in a bun.

"What happened?" Harry asked.

His figure was standing perfectly against the front door, his arms crossed in front of his chest, his attention fully on me.

"He doesn't believe in breaks, I'll give you that much."

Harry smiled, turning his head to the side as if he was admiring me. I laughed, blushing as I looked at my feet.

"Stop staring at me" I chucked.

"I can't help it."

I smiled, running over to him to steal a passionate kiss.

"I love you."

"I love you more."

He smiled, playfully hitting my butt as I turned to start cooking dinner. I laughed, giving him the middle finger while making my way toward the kitchen.

"Oh, Harry, did you get my dress from the dry cleaners for Zayn and Perries wedding?" I asked.

Harry's face immediately fell, instantly beginning to panic. His skin turned pale, his eyes brimming with tears. He looked absolutely terrified.

"Shit" he mumbled, tears falling from his eyes as he ran both of his hands through his hair.

"I'm so sorry I didn't—"

"Harry, it's okay I can just go and get it tomorrow morning, it's not that—"

"No, no. It isn't okay. Fuck. I'm so sorry. I'm a horrible boyfriend, I know. I'm pathetic, I'm horrible, I can't do anything right."

My eyes creased inward, confused by his actions and why he was putting himself down. Ever since we moved in together, he started freaking out if he ever did something wrong. Always calling himself names, consistently saying sorry. I'm really becoming concerned. It's hard to watch him like this.

"Harry, what are you talking about?" I whispered, but he didn't budge. He kept apologizing, pacing back and forth, insulting himself for something that wasn't his fault.

I slowly walked over to him, determined to know why he kept doing this to himself. He looked at me, tears rapidly falling down his face as he kept mumbling things I couldn't understand.

Once I approached him, he slowly moved away from me. I raised my hand to wipe his tears, but he instantly flinched. He flew his arms in front of his face as he knelt down, blocking himself from something he thought I was going to do.

My heart fell beneath my feet, crashing beneath me. I now knew what was going on.

I slowly reached to grab his shoulder, gliding my hands up to both of his hands, grabbing onto them and placing them gently on my shoulders. Harry's face softened.

I rubbed the sides of his stomach gently, pulling him closer to me.

He closed his eyes, pulling me into him so that he could hug me. He carried me a little off the ground, only so that he could place me on top of his feet.

We always fit better like this.

He cried into my hair for a while, his body still hasn't stopped shaking.

"My ex, she would always—"

"We don't have to talk about this now," I started, twisting his hair around my fingers, "but just know that I will never hurt you like that. Okay? You mean too much to me." He nodded, crying into my shoulder for what felt like the entire night, but I didn't mind it at all.